SORROW-TELL HEART – Iulia Halatz

 

I was a pet of some exotic breed

I couldn’t sing above the ground.

Tamed, wounded, half born

Under the dark moon.

It was he

Who taught me

To unsing

Undream

Unbelieve

To him my humane body

Had been a fiery husk

Flickering 

Against closed walls.

The garden was above

Dank meadows looming.

Everything I saw in my mind

I could perceive

With the eyes of

A wound,

Pulsating

Festering

Could I still feel the scent

Of night

in the carousel of pain?

 

I wanted to break

This corrosive perception

And listen to songbird…

Everything that shimmered

In my ears

Was crackling crows

Fruits of mauve trees

Against amber twilight…

In the sundown realm.

The blood of the stars

Had engulfed it…

My heart used to have roots

Into the feeble beams of autumn

After lilacs grew them stronger…

Can you pull me into April?

Or any month

wearing blue odors

And tawny lights…

Pending July

he would be felt on my skin

Like Spring rain

Without Spring.

Sophisticated

Abrasive

Pet

of one color…

I was allowed to contemplate

The flawed days only

through barbed windows…

 

You lived,

But somewhere else

The black moon turned away

Sheltered steppe

Had no need of garbage flowers

The zest for life

Is fortitude, work

Dream

Of a plain new world

Swept in the ascending

Web of Truth.

 

“Writing is an Iron Tale, must be tough and sincere to the core of human perception of pain as valor. I am the grumpy T-Rex who started writing out of pain, not because of a polished world. Writing out of love is painless and herbivore. As we sometimes taste blood, ours or others’. Nevertheless, some words are so expensive that we are better left with them unspoken or write them with the ink of a Ghost…” She is a teacher, small entrepreneur and cyclist.

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